Hopelessly Devoted
by Gedia Kacela
Summary: When buying a Valentine's Day gift, be sure to make your purchase something that shows your devotion... despite the fact that you cannot stand your significant other. (A Snape/Sinistra set in "The Odd Couple" but not a needed part of the story.)


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Hopelessly Devoted

Disclaimer: Snape's not mine. Neither is Dumbledore nor Sinistra. Sinistra's first name, however, is a contrived thing of my own.

Author's Note: This is an out-take of my story "The Odd Couple" which tells the story of Snape and his farcical marriage to former Death Eater Ciera Sinistra. Previous reading of TOC is unnecessary, but recommended and greatly appreciated. A bit of a belated Valentine's Day fic.

***

Ciera Sinistra, former Death Eater, former Azkaban resident, current professor of Astronomy at Hogwarts, stared forlornly at the display window. Never in all of her years, either as a student, disciple of Voldemort, professor, or otherwise, had she faced such a dilemma. There was no spell or charm in existence to solve her problem. And she was completely and utterly on her own.

After all, it wasn't exactly an easy thing to buy a Valentine's Day gift for someone.

Especially if that someone happened to be your husband.

Who happened to be Severus Snape.

She glared down at the simple ring that adorned her left hand and mentally cursed it once again. There had been nothing in the contract of marriage that said she must buy gifts for the man she despised. He had married her to save her life, not because he even remotely enjoyed her company. And she had married him because she rather had no choice. It was either Snape or Azkaban.

At least you didn't have to buy Valentine's Day gifts for Dementors.

She redirected her gaze to the display window. It was garbed in garish pink and red and littered with paper hearts that spun through the air. Exhibited within were a plethora of gifts she was invited to choose from: stuffed owls holding hearts in their beaks, scented Ever-Burn heart-shaped candles, boxes upon boxes of chocolate, red stuffed dragons that flew through the air and sang love songs upon command. The sight nearly sickened her.

She somehow doubted that Snape would appreciate her giving him black boxers with hearts plastered all over them. To tell the truth, she didn't even want to think about the man in his underwear. They had been married for months, and she had never so much as seen him with his shirt unbuttoned. And she thanked Merlin every day for that one small gift.

With a sigh, she entered the shop, a grimace plastered across her face. Immediately a small, winged cupid... thing... bounced over to her, holding up a piece of... intimate apparel. It was rather black and see-through, with red satin hearts covering up certain areas of the body. It was, perhaps, the most abominable thing she had ever seen.

"Looking for a gift that'll drive the man in your life wild, Miss?"

She cocked an eyebrow at the thing. "Actually, I was looking for something to kill him with." She regarded the lingerie. "Though I suppose he might drop dead if he saw me in that..."

The cupid imitator looked slightly apprehensive, but held the skimpy piece of material up. "So Miss wants to buy it?"

"No, idiot," she snarled before striding away, causing the cupid to squeak in fear. She brushed through the aisles, searching for something, anything, that she could get for Snape. There must be something.

She paused in the midst of an aisle of animated cards. What did he like? Taking points from Gryffindor. Giving Gryffindors detention. She highly doubted that they sold individually wrapped Gryffindor students ready to be verbally abused. He liked wearing black. She was not buying him clothes. He liked being alone. That she could manage. It would be a present for both of them.

But Albus' voice came again in her head, _"Ciera dear, this is your first Valentine's Day as a married couple. You must buy him some trinket or another so that the staff is not suspicious."_

Damn him. Damn them all. She hoped the inventor of this ridiculous holiday was being digested by worms right about now.

Okay, okay... his likes. He liked... torture. Handcuffs?

No.

NO.

She did not want to give him any ideas.

She stared around helplessly and after a moment seized up a pair of socks in a last-ditch, desperate attempt. Swallowing hard, she looked at them. They were very... pink. Merlin. He would kill her on sight if she actually gave those to him.

Then again, that might be a plus.

Gritting her teeth together, she made her way toward the cashier, drawing a Galleon from the coin purse at her waist. She tossed it and the socks onto the counter with a grim look on her face. The cashier, a sickeningly pretty blonde witch, took the socks with a sugary smile. "Would you like these gift wrapped, ma'am?" Ciera shrugged and gave a barely perceptive nod. 

The witch pointed her wand at the footwear and spoke a charm. An instant later, they were wrapped in a lurid red-and-pink bag tied shut with a red ribbon. Ciera tried hard not to wrinkle her nose at the sight.

As she was giving Ciera her change of two Sickles and five Knuts, the cashier asked sweetly. "I hope your little girl enjoys these, ma'am."

Sinistra stopped mid-turn and glanced back over her shoulder. "They are not for a child. They are for my husband." And with that she swept out of the store, stashing the brightly coloured parcel beneath her robes.

Scarcely a minute later, another black-robed figure came scowling down the street, his lank black hair blowing behind him in the breeze. His frown deepened as he halted in front of the shop, as if his glare alone could reduce the ridiculous holiday merchandise to ashes. Though his fingers were twitching strangely over his wand.

__

"You are aware, Severus, that it is customary for a husband to buy his wife a present on Valentine's Day, are you not?"

He shook his head in all-too-late defiance of the echoing remembrance of Albus' comment. This whole business was ridiculous. He would not go through with it. He would not enter that damned bloody shop. He would not buy that hussy of a woman anything. Not one sodding thing.

__

"If I am not mistaken, and I rarely am, I believe that Ciera is purchasing you some trifle in honour of the day of romance."

So? Her troubles should not obligate him to go through the same torment. It wasn't like he cared two Knuts about her. She could offer him an entire library of potions books and he would feel no guilt.

__

"I expect you to do the same."

Damn it.

He entered the small but overcrowded shop and found himself suddenly overwhelmed by lavish amounts of flowery perfume and an overabundance of off-key singing coming from some charmed stuffed dragon that a petulant child was banging against a shelf. He cringed and turned away only to be confronted with a sad excuse for a cherub who was holding a scrap of red lace in his hands.

Wait a minute.

That wasn't a scrap of red lace.

"Like to see your lady looking hot tonight, sir?"

He felt his stomach turn over at the comment and the mental image that, unbidden, accompanied it. Shaking his head violently, he backed away and hurried towards the opposite side of the store. He had to get out of here. Before he went mad.

He would buy the first thing he saw and leave. That was his plan. He reached out and snatched something from a shelf in front of him. A box of chocolates.

Not bad. From what he knew of this perversely contrived holiday, chocolates were supposed to be a rather traditional gift, especially if they were in a heart-shaped box. And they were.

He breathed a sigh of relief and headed quickly towards the counter to pay, steering clear of the lingerie-bearing cupid. Two Galleons later, he was hurrying out of the store, the chocolates, now wrapped and tied with a white-and-red striped bow, gripped in his right hand.

It wasn't until he was halfway down the street that he wondered if he had heard Sinistra mention that she was allergic to chocolate. He cast a disparaging glance back at the shop and decided that she had most certainly not said such a thing.

It must have been his other fake wife.

***

Severus was seated in front of the fireplace, reading from a moth-eaten, dog-eared book. His hair formed a curtain around his face, so he could not see Ciera as she entered around midnight after her Astrology lesson. But he heard her heeled boot click against the floor and slowly closed the book, one long finger marking his place.

For a long minute, neither moved nor spoke. Finally he grunted, "Good evening."

There was another long pause before she responded. "I suppose for some it must be."

Silence thickened the air as Snape stared into the flames and Sinistra perused the floor. After several minutes, she crossed the room to fix a drink for herself. She swallowed it quickly, feeling the liquid burn its way down her throat. The gift inside her robes weighed against her and she sighed, removing it and staring down at it. She looked back at Severus, who had not moved.

"Good night," she said suddenly, heading for her room. On her way past his chair, she dropped the parcel into his lap and continued on.

His hand reached out and he grabbed a fistful of her robes, checking her short. Holding up the wrapped package in his bony hand, he sneered, "What the hell is this?"

She glared down at him. "Albus strongly suggested that I purchase you something for this ridiculous day to keep up our image." She tugged at her robes. "Now kindly remove your filthy hand from my clothing... _darling_."

He frowned at the snarl she spoke the 'endearment' with. "Of course, _dear_, as soon as I return the favor." He thrust his own present into her hands and let loose her robes, returning to his book.

They fell back into silence. Ciera could not help but notice that Snape did not turn one page of the book in the entire five minutes she stood there. Finally, she snapped at him, "It would not kill you to open it."

"Nor would yours," he returned, just as bitterly.

"Fine."

"Fine."

With a glare that rivaled his own, Ciera pulled the ribbon from the box and painstakingly began to unwrap the gift, careful not to bend or tear any of the paper. Snape paused in his own task, grinding his teeth together. "For Merlin's sake, woman, just open the damned thing!"

She arched an eyebrow at him. "I am."

He growled something unintelligible and returned to unwrapping his own present, scowling at the distasteful wrapping. A moment later, the gift lay unwrapped on his lap. "Socks," he said in a bland monotone.

Sinistra's tone matched his. "Chocolates."

He held up the footwear between his thumb and first finger with a curl of his thin lips. "They are pink."

"I'm allergic," she returned.

They stared at each other for a while before something of a mutual understanding passed between them. Snape stood and approached her, holding out the socks. She accepted them and offered him the chocolates in return. Then with a dark scowl at each other, they turned and departed to their separate rooms, shutting the doors firmly behind them.

Ciera sat on her bed and stared down at her feet, which were now covered by the incredibly pink socks. She pursed her lips together and stuck her feet out in front of her. "Happy Valentines Day to me," she muttered darkly.

The full-length mirror on the wall across from her spoke up suddenly. "Really, dear, I rather think you're too old to pull off pink." A moment later, a pink sock was flung against the mirror's surface before sliding down to crumple on the floor. The mirror gave a huffy reply, "Besides, pink is most certainly _not_ your colour."

***

The next morning, when the House-Elves came to collect the previous day's trash, all they found outside the door of Snape and Sinistra's quarters was an empty, heart-shaped box of chocolates. 

Next to it lay a pair of rumpled, pink socks.

END


End file.
